King Rat
by Minato's Moustache
Summary: Eridan was the type of guy that believed you could teach a baby to swim by throwing it in a frozen over lake, and most of the time it worked. Needless to say, Vriska wasn't a baby.


King Rat

"Are you sure about this?"

"Would I be here if I wasn't sure? Unless, you know, you're scared."

Vriska snorted, trying her hair back with a sharp grin on her face, "scared? Baby I was born ready for this job right here."

They looked at each other for a moment, silence stretching across the dashboard of his beat up car.

"Alright then," Eridan said – he didn't seem as confident as her, even if he'd been doing this job for much longer than her. He turned off the engine and slid from the car, holstering his now loaded revolver before walking around to open the door for Vriska.

They needed to be fast.

Vriska knocked on the door, three succinct raps followed by her kicking it, whilst Eridan slinked out of view – it was the way they had been working for the last month and it seemed to work for the most part. Eridan was the type of guy that believed you could teach a baby to swim by throwing it in a frozen over lake, and most of the time it worked.

Needless to say, Vriska wasn't a baby.

The door opened to reveal a skinny man with several piercings in his babyish face.

"Williams?"

"Right inside, miss."

"Please," she said as the door shut behind her, "Vriska will do."

The flat she found herself in was small and dirty and had 6 men crammed into every available space.

The toilet flushed.

Make that seven.

Williams was easy to identify, noticeably better dressed than his peers and looking straight at her.

"Can I help you, doll?"

"Vriska. You know why I'm here," Vriska said, loosening her hair so that it could fall around her face, "and I'm not here to chat, Artie. Where's T's money?"

"Can't say I know what you're talking about." He settled further back into his grimy chair, trousers pulling up to reveal matching purple socks hidden by well polished shoes. Quite frankly, she was surprised he was working out of a dingy flat.

"Bullshit."

The room was completely silent, but no one besides Vriska apparently heard the kitchen window sliding open.

"Jay, get the door," Matthew said, eyes narrow, "listen, sweetheart, I don't owe your buddy shit, so if you'd be kind enough to get out."

Vriska had the benefit of every man in the room being turned to her, so when Eridan slipped into the room it went unnoticed. She slowly blacked up, trying to not show the nervousness on her face as she picked up a picture on the cupboard behind one of the sofas.

"This your girlfriend, Williams?"

"Sister."

"Lovely" she said, drawing her gun and shooting the man by the door between the eyes. She ducked behind the sofa just in time for the bullets to start flying, yelping as one nicked her thigh. She killed the man coming out of the bathroom before he could even think about touching his gun and listened as Eridan took out two more. He was a good shot; she'd give him that at least.

They both stood and simultaneously opened fire on William's remaining cronies. Williams was fumbling for his gun under the table, eyes wide with fear. His suit pants were splattered with blood.

Eridan walked around the other sofa to stand in the middle of the room whilst Vriska clattered around in Williams' bedroom. She used a tie to bandage her leg and got to work digging through his drawers. Meanwhile, Williams reared back and pulled the trigger of his gun, barrel pointed directly at Eridan. Click, click, and click. He threw it away and sobbed, covered in snot and blood and begging for his life.

"Found it!" Vriska called.

"Where are you from, Williams?"

"M-Macon."

"Nice, very nice. You ever go to that diner just out of town? I swear - best steak I've ever had."

"No I d-didn't."

"What a shame," he clicked his tongue, "haven't lived, kid."

Eridan pulled the trigger.

They ran for the car, barely halfway down the road when they saw the police cars pull up at the flat. Vriska was still laughing, her nerves becoming near hysteria as she drove. She was bleeding onto the seat of Eridan's car, leaving a print of her thigh.

"What was all that shit about Macon? You've never even been to Macon."

He smiled slightly, running a hand through his hair and fixing his tie, "yeah, but gotta make it exciting. When you've been doing this as long as me you'll understand."

"Because you're so fucking old," she said, pulling up to the back entrance of the club, "and killing scumbags for money is so hard."

She went to get out of the car but he grabbed her arm, pulling her back in.

"Are you bleeding?"

Her eyes went from him, to the seat, to him again, "no?"

"Get out of the fucking car oh my god do you know how hard it is to get blood out of leather I'm going to kill you."


End file.
